


Little Red Iolaus

by islandkate, LittleSwallow (Hobbity)



Category: The Mortal Instruments (Movies), Young Hercules
Genre: Don't beware of the wolf, M/M, Modern AU, Wintertime, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28224714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandkate/pseuds/islandkate, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbity/pseuds/LittleSwallow
Summary: Iolaus has to bring presents to his old teacher, Cheiron. On his way, he meets a mysterious, handsome stranger in the forest .... and you know what they say about wolves.
Relationships: Luke Garroway/Iolaus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Little Red Iolaus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lakritzwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/gifts).



> Happy Birthday dear Lakritzwolf! Hope you enjoy the first part of this little gift :)

“What do you mean, you have to go to Corinth with Jason?” Iolaus demanded of Hercules, his so-called best friend. “Without me?”

Hercules rolled his eyes. “Yes. It’s meeting some people regarding shit my family has done to his family, and frankly having you there will either mean you’ll get bored and cause chaos, or you will get angry and cause chaos.”

Iolaus crossed his arms, glaring at both young men. As if they were much better than him. Last time Hercules dealt with other vessels of Greek gods and demigods, tables were flying and they just about evaded the police.

“Iolaus, dear,” Alcmene interrupted. “If you don’t have to go to town, you could help me out.”

Iolaus accidentally glared at her, before schooling his expression to be more neutral. He loved Hercules’ mother. He was as close to family as he had after his parents died.

“Great! Have fun Iolaus” Hercules shouted as he and Jason turned and sprinted to Jason’s car. Assholes.

Alcmene smiled at Iolaus and of course he had to smile back.

“You could actually help me out by bringing my gift basket to Cheiron - you know I prepare a little something for him every Christmas.”

Iolaus smile became more sincere. He liked that old horse - his high school coach who had given him a chance, and bullied the other teachers to give him a chance, when he was a troubled teenager.

So he pulled on the red hat he had knitted himself a few ago, and carried the heavy basket to his crappy old car. Alcmene’s little something was several pies, several bottles of home-made mead and a lot of apple sauce.

Upstate New York was freezing in December, and it took him forever to scratch his windshield free of ice, enough for him to start driving.

Of course, the cold proved too much for the fifth-hand car he was driving and at a good distance from the forest hut Cheiron had retired to and the car decided enough was enough. Iolaus looked around. He could call for help, but that would cost money. Better to wait for Herc and Jason to be back from Corinth to tow him back to Alcmene’s farm. They could fix the damn thing together for the 1000th time.

He checked his phone and it looked like there was forest path starting not too far from the place his car was stranded leading to the clearing Cheiron lived in. Perfect.

He shuddered from more than the cold when he looked at the dense, dark forest. 

But the thought of calling Hercules and Jason to tow him only for them to discover that he was too cowardly to make the walk and had still not delivered his basket, steeled his resolve. He heaved the basket out of the car and headed for the path.

Cheiron was a powerful old centaur - certainly now dangerous creatures dared to live too close to him. His centaur herd would come galloping from their forest in Canada to trample any creature that dared to threaten a fellow centaur.

With this little pep talk Iolaus forced himself to ignore the shadows he imagined he saw flitting between the trees and bushes at some distance from the path.

Some deer. Maybe a fox or some birds in the undergrowth.

Snow falling from bushes.

That was all.

Until a huge wolf suddenly jumped out of the bush and stared straight at him. Iolaus stared back. No backing down. He was not a coward. And he could not run with the basket.

The wolf ducked his head and slunk back into the bushes.

Now THAT was a story he needed to tell his friends. He scared a wolf away! 

Five minutes later he shrieked when a beautiful man suddenly stepped out from behind a tree. Tall, gorgeous curls that were dusted with snow, wearing nothing but jeans and a light jacket in the freezing cold.

Certainly a vessel of some god or another.

The guy smiled, making the forest instantly brighter.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you. W-I did not expect to find another soul here.”

“Neither did I,” Iolaus replied, with as much dignity as he could muster, with a red beanie, most certainly a red nose and an unwieldy basket hanging of his right forearm.

“What brings you to these parts?” The guy was still smiling brightly. 

“I am visiting my old coach with Christmas gifts,” Iolaus explained, not bothering to explain that it were not his own gifts.

“Oh, for Cheiron?” If possible, the smile grew wider. “He loves it when his old students come by.”

“You know the old horse?”

“Certainly I do. We’re neighbours.”

Ah, another weird wood dweller. He was lost for words, but the stranger pressed on anyway:

“Usually people come by car. Especially in winter.”

“Oh. Yes. Um. My car broke down.”

“Ah, rotten luck at this time of year.”

“Yeah.” Iolaus shrugged. “My friends have gone to Corinth, but they will pick me up later.”

Heavily implying that his friends knew where he was, which of course they didn’t because Iolaus hadn’t sent them a message yet. 

He was a plucky fighter - and Cheiron had made sure he was skilled too - but also if this guy was a vessel who was not hindered by a bloody heavy basket on his arm, he would stand no chance.

He started walking again - for normal people, it really was too cold to stay still - and the stranger fell into step with him, not uttering a word.

Iolaus was strangely tongue-tied. He should ask this guys name. Or ask if he lived far from Cheiron. Anything. Come on Iolaus, small talk.

Instead, the stranger spoke again.

“You know what Cheiron ran out of?”

“Um, no?”

“Pine cones.”

“Pine cones?”

“He loves throwing them into his fireplace, they give a nice crackle. Or of course, use them to make bird feeders. There are some around here.”

“Oh cool!” His own present for Cheiron, coming for free for a few minutes of work. 

“Well, I must be on my way ….” the stranger said and moved away, as Iolaus put his basket down.

He did not see the guy stepping behind a tree and a wolf, carrying a bundle of clothes in his mouth, ran off through the forest.

Luke was at Cheiron’s place five minutes later.

The centaur was his favourite neighbour and they had known each other for years. So it was quite natural for him to knock on the door before he even transformed back into human.

Cheiron let the wolf pass through the door and was unfazed when a naked man stood in front of him.

“I will never understand why you can never do that before you come in,” he said sternly, though he knew the response. Luke winked and said:

“I’m too modest of course.”

Cheiron shook his head and walked towards the kitchen, his hooves clanging on the stone floor.

“Can I offer you some wine?”

Luke nodded, but then he remembered why he was here.

“Actually I came here for some answers.”

Cheiron almost dropped the bottle to the floor once Luke was done explaining and Cheiron burst out laughing.

“Iolaus,” he said when he caught his breath again. “That must have been Iolaus. Angelic would not be the first word I associate with him, but I guess he does look a bit like that.”

“It’s a beautiful name.”

Cheiron chuckles. “I’d never think I’d see you this captivated at your age.”

“I’m 30,” Luke said with much dignity. “And I merely asked after a man I saw heading to my neighbours house.”

Cheiron whinnied in delight. “I’m glad I got your protection.” Ignoring Luke’s glare, he went on: “I better make my escape through the backdoor until Iolaus comes in here, carrying a present no doubt Alcmene made and pine cones.” He crossed his arms and shook his head. “Pine cones. Seriously? You know I hate the way the throw embers all over the place.”

Luke wisely did not answer that but asked Cheiron what he might offer the guest.

It was not long before Iolaus knocked on the door, shouting Cheiron’s name.

His eyes widened when the same handsome stranger he encountered in the forest opened the door. Had he really been picking up pine cones that long?

“Hi!” Luke said brightly! “Cheiron stepped out just when I came by, but he said to let you in and make sure you’re fed and properly warmed up.”

Iolaus felt a lot warmer just taking in the vision in front of him.

“Thanks.” It never took him long to find his equilibrium again. “I’m Iolaus by the way.”

“Luke. Come on in, I am just heating up the mulled wine, you must be cold.”

  
“Freezing,” Iolaus said cheerfully. Luke. What an ordinary name for such extraordinary beauty.

The hut was one big room - of course it was, a centaur took up a lot more space just working in it than a human would and too many walls and doors were uncomfortable.

And everything was, of course, installed higher up. When Luke stretched to open the oven and get the pie up, Iolaus caught a glance of a trim waist.

It was just appetizing has the heated up pie Luke put on the surprisingly small table, along with two glasses of steaming wine.

Conversation flowed easily. Iolaus was never one to run out of things to say.

And he was also very susceptible to flattery.

Luke laid it on thick. He complimented Iolaus curls, the way his face was starting to gain colour from the wine, his humour.

Luke found himself more and more entranced. He was, by all accounts, as boring as werewolves got. He liked his routines. A break of routine was always trouble.

But lately, Clary had moved out, shadowhunter and demon drama was low, vampires were licking their wounds … and the old forest had become almost too boring.

Until Iolaus had walked along, just when Luke needed a distraction.

And he was very, very aware that Iolaus had been checking him out from the moment they met and that he liked what he saw.

As the third pot of mulled wine was bubbling on the stove, filling the kitchen with his magical smell, Iolaus’ hands found Luke’s thigh. Luke got up abruptly, walked to the big window and said sternly: “Time to stop spying, old man,” and closed the window.

Iolaus opened his mouth to ask what that was about, but before he got more than the first word out, Luke’s mouth covered his and Iolaus found himself lifted out of the chair, Luke’s hand on his bottom.

An hour later, an hour in which they made full use of every available surface, Cheiron banged imperiously on his own back door and walked in, stomping his hooves on the stone floor.

He found Iolaus curled up in front of the fireplace, dozing, and Luke sipping on more wine, looking very smug.

“Wipe that grin of your face and get cleaning,” Cheiron said sternly. “I want this place spotless. Be sure you clean all your mess.”

Luke puts his wine down immediately and grimaced.

Yes, there would be some mess. And Luke was normally so conscientious, but Iolaus had let him throw all that out of the window.

He could not resist patting that butt a little as he got to scrubbing the floor.


End file.
